That Blind Eyes Failed to See
by rainy-writer-079
Summary: Kirk falls head over heels (no surprise there) for a new crewmember aboard the Enterprise. Soon, though, it becomes apparent that the person he loves is more than she seems, and this truth endangers the friendships, and lives, of everyone involved. Spock-centric, but features the whole crew
1. Prologue

**Hi, this is my first story. I'll do my best!**

 **Disclaimer: The characters of Star Trek: TOS do not belong to me, but to CBS studios currently. I do not make a profit off of this story, nor do I intend to infringe on the owner's rights or whatever. The story, and it alone, is mine. Thanks!**

* * *

If he were to be completely honest, James Kirk would have to admit that he wasn't really listening.

Perhaps this would not have come as a surprise to the first officer of the Enterprise, who seemed to be growing increasingly agitated (for a Vulcan, at least) the longer he attempted to inform the captain about the abnormalities in the cell structure of some...plants or something, he wasn't sure. He wasn't actually listening, honestly.

"Captain," Spock intoned grumpily. Kirk startled in his chair and nearly fell. Coughing, he turned to his friend.

"Yes, Spock?"

"I'm beginning to get the feeling that your mind is elsewhere, captain. As I was just saying—"

Kirk's eyes widened and he immediately held his hand up. "Err, that's alright, Spock," he hurried, mind searching frantically for a suitable reason to excuse himself from this rather dull conversation, "I'm a bit busy at the moment. Type it up in a report or something, and I'll be sure to get to it, soon as I can. Alright?"

And even as Spock, with a slightly disgruntled raise of one brow, tried to call out to him, Kirk was sauntering across the dining hall to a small group of crewman they had brought on recently.

"Captain!" one of them said in surprise, and instantly the table fell to silence. All eyes fell to him.

Kirk pulled on his most charismatic grin and slid into an empty seat near the end.

"Why hello, Ensign Briggs. But is it really so surprising to see your captain eating lunch in the mess? I'm not immune to hunger, you know," Kirk teased. Several of the men chuckled good-naturedly.

Briggs cleared his throat. "Always good to see you, sir," he muttered pleasantly. He had been on since last May, a good nine months longer than most of the people sitting there. Long enough for the captain to feel comfortable teasing him.

Gradually the silence wore down, and slight conversation picked up again, allowing the captain the opportunity to do what he had come over to do in the first place: talk to the rather stunning new lieutenant who had been making eyes at him across the mess since she had walked in.

"Hello, miss," Kirk started, desperate to sound casual. "I don't believe we have been formally introduced. I'm James Kirk. And you?"

She grinned. "Silva, sir. Silva Davidson."

"Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Davidson. What say you and I—"

And suddenly Spock was standing behind him with a large stack of papers in his hands. "The report you requested, sir."

"Report?" Kirk said vaguely, feeling slightly irritated.

"Yes, sir," and if Kirk didn't know any better, he would say Spock was almost mocking him, "about the cellular regenerative abilities of the Shrouster plant which I was discussing with you earlier. I hope you will be able to get to it soon," he dropped the papers in Kirk's lap with a heavy thud, "but as it is now time for your shift on the bridge, I understand that you will have to postpone reading it until after Alpha Shift has ended." With that, and a smart turn on his heel, Spock was gone.

Kirk opened his mouth to apologize to Silva for the interruption, but she must have slipped out shortly after Spock arrived. He glanced around him in search for her, but she was long gone.

* * *

 **Short, I know. That probably won't change. Oh well...**


	2. Chapter 1

**Once again, I own nothing but the storyline and Silva. On with the story!**

* * *

Several weeks later, Doctor McCoy was trotting quickly through the halls, his mind seething and bent on purpose. He paused only long enough to disable the lock on the cabin door before barging in.

"Spock!" he bellowed, his voice shaking in annoyance. "We need to talk. Now."

Spock rose slowly from the kneeling position he had assumed on the floor and turned to face Bones. "Could it not wait until after I have finished meditating, doctor?"

Bones shook his head agitatedly. "Dang it, Spock! When I said now, don't you think I meant NOW? It's important!"

"Indeed," Spock replied, motioning to a chair. "Speak, then."

McCoy huffed but sat down. Spock, sitting across the desk from him, raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well, doctor?"

"It's about the captain, Spock," McCoy drawled, and he leaned in closer. "You've seen how he's been acting lately, what with that new-fangled girl of his. It's messing him up, Spock, and blast everything if I don't smell something fishy going on."

"Fish, doctor? I fail to see how that relates to the predicament at hand."

"Don't bother about the fish, you green-blooded computer! Don't you understand what I'm saying?"

Spock paused for a second, thinking. Finally, he stated, "Yes, I believe so. I myself have noticed a similar behavior in the captain lately, and it is most... unsettling. Almost as if—"

McCoy cut him off excitedly. "As if he has been brainwashed or something, right? My goodness, I'm so glad you've noticed too!"

Spock raised an eyebrow once more. "Perhaps a bit crude, albeit accurate, way to put it, doctor; however, I find myself tending to agree with you. Something is 'off,' as you would say, with this Silva Davidson, and it is affecting the captain. I am sure that the rest of the crew is aware, as well. It would explain the recent drop in efficiency throughout the ship."

Bones was already nodding excitedly. "Yeah, you're right! We've got to do something about this, Spock."

"Doctor, I fail to see what—"

He was cut off once more by the doctor's eager rambling. "We have to break them up. She's sketchy, Spock, real sketchy. I don't trust her one bit!"

"Be that as it may, doctor," he continued calmly, "I do not know what you wish for me to do."

"I don't know, but you have to do something! Isn't there, I don't know, some kind of regulation about this kind of stuff? You have that whole rule book thing memorized from top to bottom, so I'm sure you'll figure something out!"

Spock did not seem so sure as the doctor was, but after a few more earnest pleadings to spur him into action, Bones decided that he had prodded all he could. He had done his part to help the captain. Now, he thought with a shudder, now it was all up to Spock.


	3. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of the characters from Star Trek, only this storyline and Silva. Technically, I don't even own them, so...**

 **Anyway, please note that I have posted two chapters in one day. If you have not yet read the second chapter, be sure to read that one first!**

 **On with the story!**

* * *

Spock knocked hesitantly at the door. This was one of the few responsibilities he had as First Officer which he had grown to dread. Performing the task now was no exception, but Doctor McCoy was right: it simply had to be done.

He heard a rustling within the cabin, and a female voice called out, "Coming!"

He waited.

When Lieutenant Silva Davidson opened the door, her countenance instantly morphed into one of honest surprise. She remained there for several moments, her mouth hanging open, before Spock calmly said, "May I come in, lieutenant?"

She nodded quickly, and he stepped through the door, with the lieutenant scurrying just behind him. She anxiously made a motion for him to sit down, but he shook his head and remained standing just in front of her desk, glancing about the room.

It was stark and dreary, painted the usual beige of crewmembers' cabins. Several pictures hung up on the walls, mostly copies of old terran paintings and photos of animals. Only one showed a person, and it seemed an older photo, as of some long-held family keepsake which had been passed on to her. The rest of the room was perfectly ordinary, exactly as it had looked when it was issued. Nothing out of place, nothing unkempt, nothing suspicious. All as regulation specified.

He turned back to her when he became aware of a pair of eyes boring into him. She had sat down behind the desk and was fiddling with a stack of files which lay there, but her eyes remained on him. Spock cleared his throat.

"Lieutenant Davidson, it has come to my attention that you are spending an inordinate amount of time with the captain. Normally, this would not be an extreme issue—of course, relationships between crew members are against regulation in Starfleet, but it is a rule which is not strictly upheld, for all intents and purposes—yet it seems that this particular relationship is hindering the efficiency of the crew. Multiple crewmembers have filed complaints against you in the recent weeks since your arrival, citing your relationship with the captain as a possible cause for odd behavior and favoritism towards you. I have come to ask an explanation in regards to these complaints. If you cannot provide a satisfactory one, your relationship with the captain will be terminated immediately."

All of this he said in one breath, staring harshly at Silva. He did not want to issue such an ultimatum, but it was part of his job, a task which he could no longer postpone. People were walking on eggshells, angry at the lieutenant's behavior but worried and unwilling to upset the captain. It seemed that in this case he had "pulled the short straw," so to speak.

The captain would likely be cross with him, but such things could not be helped. In truth, Lieutenant Davidson had been acting in a manner that was unfit for any officer, and it had to be stopped. Crewmembers had reported that she was arriving hours late to duty, handing out orders and threats (and not always to subordinates), neglecting safety precautions and regulations, and possibly using the science labs for unauthorized and potentially drug-related experiments after hours. This last was more of a rumor which had been circulating the ship, merely a whisper, with no evidence to back it up. Still, somehow he sensed that there was truth in the words.

It did not seem as though Davidson was truly capable of such acts on first glance. She was innocent and alluring, with a youthful face and sweet doe eyes. Even Spock had been subject to doubt the poor marks on her service record when first he read it, wondering if perhaps jealousy had led to such statements being added in regards to her character. But in recent weeks, as he had worked with her and the captain had fallen deeper and deeper in love, he had realized that something was amiss. It was never direct insubordination, at least never anything that he could cite as fool-proof evidence. He wasn't exactly sure what was wrong, except that every so often there was a look in her eyes, a sort of feral hatred, which seemed to flow through her. She was just... off. There was no better way to explain it, no way for him even to understand it. But he was aware of it, as was most of the crew. Everyone was cognizant of her behavior, really, with a single exception: the captain.

She was glaring at him now, a look so harsh he almost felt the urge to step back. He didn't, though. He was a Vulcan. He was in control of his emotions.

He could do this.

He took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back. "Well?" he intoned calmly.

"Well? Well what? There is nothing to say. No explanation. None needed. Those people are lying! They're just jealous, can't you see? I don't have to explain myself to you."

"On the contrary," Spock said calmly, even as Silva seethed at him, "I'm afraid that you do. These accusations are not in error. I myself agree with them. I approach you only to hear your side, as per regulation, before I make a decision."

"Decision on what?" Silva growled, all pretenses of innocence gone.

Spock sighed, shifting his weight subtly from one foot to the other. He worked to get his emotions under control, but a feeling of unease welled up before he could stop it. "The decision of whether to transfer you off of this ship, and likely out of Starfleet as well, or to allow you to remain here. You have some sort of influence over the captain, that much is obvious, but yours is not the choice here. I will investigate, and, if I must, relieve you of your duties. Do you have an explanation for your behavior?"

Silva shook her head, and a slow sort of smile broke out on her face. She laughed, a smooth, silky sound, tinged with the hint of a threat. "I'm afraid that I don't need one, Spock. You said it yourself! The captain loves me, and I him. There is no way he would allow you to order me off of this ship, or even out of his arms. You forget, Vulcan, that the kind of authority to do such a thing requires two signatures to get by. Yours..." She laughed again, standing so that she could look him straight in the eye. "And the captain's."

She twirled her hair between her fingers, a grin slipping into place. The sudden transformation took Spock by surprise. How could he have missed this?

"Nevertheless, I cannot allow you to remain on the Enterprise. It is obvious to me now that you are endangering the lives of the captain and the crew."

"Oh, Spock!" Silva continued to grin madly. "You still don't see, do you? You're not going to be able to get rid of me! You can't win. The captain would never allow it, and neither, I'm afraid, will I. You'll die first."

Spock's eyebrow shot up before he was even aware of the movement. His frown deepened ever so slightly. "If I must die, then I shall. But do not take such confidence in yourself. If you play this game with me, it will not end well."

Silva laughed, but this time the sound was dark, with no pretense of the innocence it had held before. "Oh, but it will be ever so much fun to play, this game!"

"Perhaps, but do not think for a minute that it will be easy."

"Mr. Spock," she said gravely, her eyes widening in sincerity, "I never would."

* * *

 **Ooohh, it's getting more interesting! I have most of this story already written, so I should be able to update fairly frequently. Feel free to review! And thank you so much to the people who have already reviewed or favorited this story! It is so fun to know that people actually like the stuff I write.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed or favorited this story! I really appreciate it.**

 **Also, someone did point out a few canonical errors in the first few chapters. I totally missed them, but thanks! I tried to fix those kinds of things in this chapter, so hopefully it is better.** **I would not consider myself a die-hard trekkie, so if anyone catches mistakes like that, just let me know.**

 **I do not own the characters of Star Trek: TOS. I was not really alive at the time, so...**

 **Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

Kirk woke up with a headache and a terrible sense of dread. _Today is not going to be a good day,_ he thought, more sure about this one statement than he was about most things. Suddenly, he had the strong urge to simply stay in bed.

The alarm by his bed rang shrilly, reminding him that Alpha Shift began in about ten minutes. He sighed and, dragging himself slowly out of bed, made his way to the shower. Ten minutes later, he was sitting in his chair on the bridge, hair still slightly damp, and with only a vague memory of how he had gotten there.

He glanced over at Spock's station to see the Vulcan hunched over his instruments. He hadn't said a word since the captain arrived, which was unusual, even for him. Anxious to get things back to normal, Kirk stood and walked over to his First.

"Morning, Mr. Spock. See anything interesting?" he started.

If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn that Spock had just flinched at the sound of his voice.

Spock straightened and turned towards Kirk. "Nothing of particular note, captain. There is a peculiar accumulation of gases and dust in the Speyor System, but it is likely just the debris left behind from a long-dead star or planet." He went on to discuss the destruction of galactic bodies and their implication on developing worlds.

"Hmm," Kirk nodded, trying to sound as if he understood what Spock had said. He didn't, but he gathered that the abnormality could not cause any damage, so he didn't delve further into the matter.

After several minutes passed in an unusually awkward silence, Kirk cleared his throat and returned to his chair. He signed the reports waiting for him there and handed the padd back to Yeoman Viless, who took it swiftly and rushed from the bridge. The girl was still a bit skittish around him, even after two months on the ship. Oh well. His reputation preceded him always, a fact which had its pros and cons.

* * *

When the Alpha shift ended, Captain James T. Kirk was already halfway into the turbolift.

His exit was perhaps a bit too swift. After making sure his replacement had arrived and was informed of the latest scientific phenomena to watch for, Spock scurried after him.

"Captain," he called, hurrying to catch up with the man. They had already reached the section of the ship which housed crew quarters.

Kirk slowed slightly and turned to glance at him. "What is it, Mr. Spock?" he inquired, annoyance tinging his voice.

"Sir, there is a matter of great urgency I wish to discuss with you."

The captain sighed in exasperation and shot a hesitating look at the door in front of him before glancing back at Spock. "Can't it wait, Mr. Spock? I'm a bit busy at the moment…"

"Sir, if you would just…"

"Spock," he interrupted, his voice pleading, "I really don't want to hear it right now. Does this matter you wish to discuss with me involve the immediate endangerment of the ship or any of her crew?"

Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, no captain, but regulation states that…"

"I don't care what regulation states!" Kirk exclaimed. "I'm busy, Mr. Spock. If the matter can wait, then it will. Dismissed!"

"But captain…"

"Dismissed!" Jim cried, and he turned back to the cabin door. He entered swiftly, completely ignoring Spock's further protestations.

* * *

 **Hope you guys liked it! Please review. Seeing people's thoughts or critiques is pretty awesome. Even if you don't review though, thanks so much for reading! It's crazy how many people have looked at this story in the five days since I posted it. People in places as far as the Isle of Man and Malaysia have even read it!**

 **In other news, I recognize that some characters may be a little OOC (namely Kirk). This was (probably) intentional, and so any odd behavior will (probably) be explained in the end. Keep that in mind for the next few chapters.**

 **Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry, I know that it has been a while. Well, maybe half a year doesn't constitute "a while," but it will do. Life got busy, and unfortunately this story was pushed to the back-burner. I do hope to finish posting it, if all works out!**

 **As ever, Star Trek does not belong to me. Likely it never will, but it is fun to imagine. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Leave a review if you can spare the time; I would love to hear from you!**

* * *

Silva Davidson looked up from brushing her long black hair just in time to see her captain steal in and fall back against the cabin door. He was obviously bothered by something, but upon seeing her, his face brightened.

"Silva! My beautiful girl," he crowed, straightening from his position against the doorway. She came up to meet him.

"James! Whatever could be the matter?"

He shook his head good-naturedly and tried to brush off the subject. "It's nothing, dear, nothing. Just Spock and his inconvenient timing. You know how it is."

She nodded absently, but her lips were pursed in thought. If there was ever a good time to bring it up with the man, it would be now while he was already slightly irked at his best friend. If there was ever a time to sow seeds of discontent... _Well,_ she set her shoulders determinedly, _now is as good a time as any._

"Speaking of Spock," she purred, running her hand up along his chest. He glanced down at her in slight surprise, but said nothing. She wasn't normally so... _intimate._

"What about Spock?" he queried gruffly. He wasn't in the mood to talk about his first officer. There were better, much more relevant things to discuss, after all.

"Well, I didn't want to bother you, James, I really didn't, but I just don't see any way around it, and now that you've brought it up..." She knew she was toying with him, but she needed to see how far he could be baited before he became too suspicious of her intentions. Luckily, he was focused more on her hand, now ruffling his straw-colored hair, than on her words. _Too easy,_ she grinned.

"It's just that, well, the other day, Spock showed up in my cabin."

"In your cabin?" Now Kirk was listening. He shook his head. "Just what are you trying to imply, Silvia? You can't expect me to believe that Spock—"

"No, no!" she assured quickly, with a laugh. "Nothing like that, of course! But, he did say some... _things_ to me... some rather _unpleasant_ things which I think you should know about."

"Yeah?" He was all ears now, any other subject which may previously have occupied his mind long forgotten.

She had him right where she wanted him.

"He told me, well..." she allowed a hint of trembling into her voice. "He said that there've been complaints, among the crew, James. Complaints... about us, and well... Well, he said unless we end things ourselves, he is going to break us up! He said he was going to kick me out of Starfleet! He said... He said—" She broke into desperate sobs and flung herself against him. Kirk stumbled back under her wait, but in his seething mood he barely noticed.

"That low-life, insubordinate, rotten computer! How dare he? Who gave him the authority to say those kinds of things to you? Certainly not me! That was out of line! It was just—"

Silva clung to him. "So you're not gonna let him kick me out? You're gonna tell him that he can't do that to me, to—to us?"

He looked down at her, and his expression melted. He kissed her gently. "Of course not, love. Of course not. He had no right to say those things to you, no call... And when I find out what crew members were complaining, well...

"But it hardly matters, Silva. Nothing is going to happen to you, or to us. I love you, and I'm not going to let some jealous jerk with no heart stand in between us or your career. I'll work everything out with Spock. You won't be hearing anything from him again!"

Silva frowned at that. Kirk saw and mimicked her expression. "What's wrong, beautiful?" He wiped a late tear from her cheek.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Silly."

"I'm sure it's not silly! Just tell me."

"Well, it's just that... You say I won't be hearing from him again, but after everything he said... Well, I don't think I'll feel okay about everything until I hear him apologize, really and truly, for what he said, and promise me that he isn't really going to carry through with his threats. He scared me so badly, Jim!"

He pulled her closer, shaking his head. "I understand. It's not silly at all, love. And if it's an apology you want, then an apology you are going to get, if it's the last words that miserable Vulcan ever speaks! You hear me?"

She nodded, and internally had to remind herself to remain shaky and meek, because in truth she felt more powerful than she ever had before.

* * *

Someone was knocking insistently at his door. He glanced impassionately at the clock in the corner of the room—it read one in the morning, an odd time for a visit—and rose from his attempt at meditation to greet whoever was so eager to see him.

Of late, he hadn't been able to sleep at all. Of course, Vulcans did not require near as much sleep as humans did, but they still needed some. But sleeping, and even meditation, had remained elusive to him ever since his confrontation with Silva Davidson several days ago. It was with a weary focus, then, that he greeted the figure at the door.

"Captain," he acknowledged. _Really,_ he thought tiredly, _who else would it be?_

"Spock," James Kirk managed to bite off. He shouldered his way into the room without waiting for permission. Spock, with eyebrows ever raised, followed him into the sitting area.

There was quiet for several minutes. Spock waited until he felt it appropriate to press, "You wished to speak with me, I assume, captain?"

Kirk seemed startled out of some dreary thought, for he looked at the Vulcan with bewilderment. Eventually, he relaxed and slouched back in the chair.

"Yeah, Spock. I did at that."

Silence again. Spock, if he was confused by the captain's manner, did not let it show on his face.

"Well, Jim?"

"Hmmph!" the captain snorted. "I'll talk on my time, Mr. Spock, not on yours! Since you evidently don't take anyone else's privacy into account, since you obviously don't respect their rights or time or freedom to pursue happiness during off-duty hours at their leisure, then you shouldn't expect anyone else to give you those courtesies either, I'm sure!"

Spock stood up from where he had momentarily alighted behind his desk, and stalked to the center of the room. He leaned up against a book shelf as if bracing himself against the assault, but said nothing.

"You just parade into everyone else's lives like you are the only one who matters on this entire ship, probably in this entire universe. You think that you are so special, but you are nothing! You told Silva you were going to fire her, were going to force her to end her relationship with me—you terrified her! And you had no right! No right—to say those things, to make such accusations without even consulting your superior first, to go vigilante-ing and sticking your nose where it most certainly doesn't belong! I can't believe you! The absolute nerve!"

"Captain, I had meant to discuss this with you earlier. If you had simply listened—"

"Listened? Why in all the universe would I listen to you, you green-blooded bastard? And even if you had meant to 'discuss' this with me, it wouldn't have been soon enough! The damage had already been done, hadn't it? When were you planning on telling me that you were going to undermine my relationship with a woman I love? When were you planning on telling me that you were going to make false accusations against her, and obviously use your tenure as first officer to sway other crewmembers to do the same, in order to get her thrown off this ship? Did you really think you could get away with all that, right under my nose? Well, I noticed, all right, and I will not stand for this sort of behavior! I—"

"Captain," the Vulcan interjected softly, yet with enough gravity to bring a halt to Kirk's vicious onslaught. "That is quite enough. I did what I believed I had to do. If you disagree with my decision and think me insubordinate, report me. As it is, I am going to have to ask you to kindly leave my quarters."

The captain's face turned beet red. He opened his mouth to launch a new tirade, but Spock had shoved him out the door before he could do so. All Kirk was left with was a quiet, "Goodnight, captain," before the door had slid shut before his gaping incredulity. Kirk took in a quick, shuddering breath, spun on his heel, and left without another word.

Inside, Spock could feel his shoulders begin to shake, but he stealed himself against unwanted emotion and resumed his kneeling position on the floor. In just five more hours, his shift started. As unlikely as it was at this point, he had to try—to slip into that meditating trance, so assuring and definitive, and wash away the last few days' worth of stress and insult. It wasn't likely he would manage at all, but the least he could do was try.


	6. Chapter 5

**And here's a second chapter. Star Trek doesn't belong to me, review, and so on. I'm sure you get the idea : )**

* * *

Doctor McCoy was exhausted, but after a day filled with three cases of strep, one broken leg which needed mending, and more checkups than he cared to remember, anyone would be tired. He only wanted to slip away and get some rest, but there was one person he needed to check up on before he did, a person who had managed to conveniently evade him the whole day.

Glancing at the time, he saw that Spock must have gotten off shift—his second of the day, and McCoy was reminded that he had been meaning to tell the Vulcan not to push himself so hard—at least half an hour ago, and still had yet to come down to Sickbay. McCoy had called him several times throughout the day, trying to convince him to come, but Spock always managed to conjure up some excuse or other, and a whole day later he still hadn't seen hide nor hair of him.

He checked with the computer to see where Spock was—in the science labs, of course, and the man really did have to ease off the work—and stormed over there to share a piece of his mind with the walking computer.

When he got there, he was ready to launch into a tirade about the responsibilities of officers and the necessity of total obedience to the word of all doctors (namely himself, of course), but he was staved off upon noticing Spock's grim posture. The Vulcan's shoulders were rigid, his hands clenched tightly so that his knuckles shone a pale green, and he had one fist pressed tightly against his temple. He looked for all the world as if he were in the throes of some massive migraine, but Doctor McCoy hadn't ever heard of a Vulcan getting migraines, not that they would let anyone on if they did. Perhaps it was the fact that Spock was so obviously, so _uncharacteristically,_ in pain, then, that threw the good doctor for a loop. He hesitated at the door, but as it was hardly in his nature to lose confidence when he had a specific task to perform, he did not pause for long. He did, however, approach Spock more cautiously than he might have before, and spoke in a voice very nearly undetectable, except for the delicate Vulcan ear.

"Spock?" he whispered. "I came to ask about that... matter with the captain. Have you said anything yet? I haven't seen him in a couple of days, and I gotta be honest: I'm a bit worried."

Spock was shaking his head, and anything else McCoy might have said was lost. He waited, impatiently as ever, but still, for Spock to say something.

"I am afraid, doctor, that I most definitely did speak with the captain. The 'matter,' as you referred to it, was not handled as... _smoothly..._ as one may have hoped."

McCoy frowned. After Spock failed to say anything else, he prodded. "Well?"

Spock sighed slightly and removed the hand from his forehead. He turned to face Bones. "There is not much to say, doctor. I confronted Miss Davidson, who does appear to be as much a threat as anyone thought, if not more so. I told her that if she could not provide suitable explanation for her behavior, and perhaps even if she could, I would be forced to end her relationship with the captain and seek proper measures to have her removed from this ship. She did not take kindly to this, I suppose. Neither, unfortunately, did the captain, who under circumstances I was unable to prevent managed to glean the development from Silva's lips rather than from my own. She must have made my actions sound harsher than they were, and with him already so far... gone, the confrontation which he later encroached on me was... unpleasant, to say the least. I do not believe I have instilled any sort of resolve in him, at least not in the direction we were doubtless hoping, in his beginning to question Silva's intentions. No, he seems far more interested in questioning mine, I'm afraid."

McCoy soaked all this in without so much as a breath, and when Spock was finished, he shook his head. "Well, this doesn't make things any easier on us, now does it? But you did the best you could, Spock. It'll all work out, I'm sure."

"I appreciate your certainty, doctor, though I fear this time it may be somewhat misplaced. I am at a loss as of how to remedy the situation, and it seems every option I have will only make things worse than they already are between me and the captain."

The doctor considered this with a frown. At length, he replied, "Maybe it would be best if you cleared the air between the two of you. Show a little remorse." Upon Spock's protests, he raised a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know you're a Vulcan, and Vulcans don't see the logic in apologizing and whatever. And I know that you didn't actually do anything wrong. But... well, maybe if you take the high ground, Jim will realize that you have his best interests at heart, and will be more apt to listen to you."

Spock shook his head, but grimaced in agreement. "In this regard, Doctor McCoy, you likely understand better than I. The illogical sentiment of human tradition is a custom I will never understand. But if this could possibly help Jim see Silva for who she is... or at the very least mend our friendship... Perhaps you are right to suggest that I apologize. Though I will not like it, I assure you."

McCoy laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you won't, Spock!"

And as Spock rose to follow the doctor's advice, he bit his lip and looked after the retreating Vulcan worriedly. "No," he muttered, frowning still, "no, Spock, I'm sure you won't."

* * *

"I came here to apologize, captain." Spock remained standing stiffly in the doorway until Kirk motioned him in.

Kirk nodded slowly, waiting for Spock to enter. He seemed to have simmered down somewhat, though he was still admittedly quite mad. He motioned Spock to sit, but the Vulcan shook his head and remained standing uncomfortably in front of the captain's desk.

"Okay... So apologize then."

The Vulcan raised his eyebrow. "Indeed, Captain," he uttered gravely, and if he had been human he may have stepped back under the force of the captain's withering gaze. Spock thought quickly over what he wanted to say. He knew that every word of it would be a lie (well, almost every word), but he would grind it out for the captain's sake. "It was brought to my attention recently that I have been acting unfairly and without just cause. Obviously, you do not wish my advice, and for me to force my opinions on you is grossly unjust. That being said, I would like to extend my humble apologies for this behavior and attempt to make amends."

"Hmm..." Kirk nodded, a slight grin twitching at his lips. "So you will apologize to Silva as well, then?"

Spock shifted, and anyone who didn't know of a Vulcan's stoic dispute of anything relating to emotion might have thought him uncomfortable. He was not, of course. He was a Vulcan, and Vulcans are never uncomfortable (not that they would ever admit to, at least.)

"Negative, sir. I believe you have misunderstood. I do not apologize for my actions, sir, but merely for the grief which they have caused you."

All traces of humor vanished from the captain's eyes in an instant. "Really, Commander? You can't even do me this small favor?"

"Sir?" Spock was obviously flustered by the captain's sudden change of emotion. "I do not believe I understand."

"Well that doesn't surprise me in the least, Spock," Kirk spat maliciously, his anger growing. "You can't even pretend to be happy for me, can you? Here you are, so caught up in your silly assumptions and jealousy, and you can't even scrounge up the courage to feign happiness for me! What kind of a man are you?"

Spock took a minute step back, internally shocked at the captain's words. His face slipped back into the rocky Vulcan mask, the stoic facade he clung to whenever he felt his emotions ripping wildly out of control.

"Jim, I would ask that you stop this! My intention was not to offend, I assure you. I only wished to make amends!" His voice edged on pleading, a last ditch effort to make up for the affront.

"I don't want to hear it, Spock!"

"Jim..."

"That's Captain Kirk to you, Commander! I will not stand for this insubordination!"

Spock shook his head. "I was not trying to insult you, captain. We're friends! This behavior is highly unnecessary."

"We were friends. Now, though... I'm not so sure where we stand, Spock. Listen, if this is how you're going to act, I'm not so sure I want to be friends. I love Silva. If you can't accept that, well... So be it."

"Captain, I can't believe you really mean that."

"Can't you?" Kirk whirled around to face Spock. "This is on you, Commander. Until you start acting differently, we aren't friends. Colleagues, maybe, but nothing more."

"Captain..."

"Get out of here, will you?" he barked, face turning a dark shade of red. "I'm done with this discussion. The only reason you're still on this ship is because I would get kicked out of Starfleet for throwing my First Officer into open space. I don't need this!"

Spock nodded slowly, his lips pursed tightly against the words begging to come out. This was not his captain. It was illogical to be offended. He stepped away.

As he was passing through the door, the captain's final, whispered words, more of an absent thought to himself than an insult, drifted back to him. "Maybe they were right. Maybe he is just a useless half-breed." Spock felt his heart sink low in his chest. _Curse these Vulcan ears!_ he thought. At any other time, he may have regretted that line of thinking. But the world was crashing all around him, and he could hardly stand to think anything else.


	7. Chapter 6

**And here are the next couple chapters. I really would love feedback! As it is, I have no idea if anyone even likes this story...**

 **I don't own the rights to Star Trek, and never will (unless something extraordinarily strange happens). Spock may be a little OOC in this chapter, but I claim creative liberty : ) I did my best to imagine how he would react, given the unusual circumstances.**

 **Anyway, on with the story!**

* * *

Somehow, Spock found himself wandering into Sickbay. He stood straight, face completely unreadable, ignoring the confused glances of the nurses and patients he passed. Everyone knew he hated Sickbay, and rarely would he go there voluntarily, though it was not completely unheard of.

He walked the fifteen steps to Doctor McCoy's office, opened the door with his override password, and plopped down in the first chair he saw. The doctor wasn't there, but that didn't matter too much. Spock would wait.

And if the doctor showed up not five minutes later, followed by an anxious Chapel, communicator still in her hand, he made no sign that he noticed.

McCoy approached hesitantly, as though unsure whether he really wanted to be there. At length, he straightened up, dismissed Chapel with a grateful smile, and closed the door.

He sat down heavily in his chair and gave Spock a quick once-over.

"Well, Mr. Spock?"

Spock shifted slightly. "I can offer no explanation at the moment, doctor. I... needed a place to think, so to speak."

The doctor raised an eyebrow in a manner that would make any Vulcan proud. "And your quarters or the bridge weren't sufficient, why, exactly?"

A slight pause, then, "Those places were a bit too—close—to the matter at hand. I would rather not discuss it."

"Hrrmph! Well, if you're not gonna talk anyways, you won't mind if I have a drink, will you?"

Spock shook his head, and the doctor pulled out a decanter of some golden alcoholic liquid. "Saurian brandy," he explained at Spock's questioning glance. "Pretty strong stuff for my taste, but it does the trick. Want some?"

The inquiry was more out of courtesy than an actual expectation that the Vulcan would say yes, since he had never agreed to drink with the doctor in the past; it came as quite a surprise, then, when the Vulcan shrugged and gave a slight dip of his head to the affirmative.

The doctor said nothing in response, but internally, a dozen warning signals were whirring. _What the heck happened to Spock?_ he wondered as he poured the brandy into two glasses and pushed one over to the Vulcan.

Spock tossed the drink down in one quick gulp and asked quietly for another.

Something was definitely wrong.

Doctor McCoy sipped slowly at his drink, too worried about Spock's sudden change in behavior to manage anything else. Eventually, after Spock's fifth drink, he capped the decanter and hid it back under his desk.

"I think that's enough, don't you, Spock?" he muttered, shaking his head at the Vulcan's soft query for more. Spock shrugged.

"Hey, what's wrong? This isn't like you, and to be honest, I'm a little worried."

"It hardly matters," Spock chuckled morosely. "I have insulted the captain and dragged our friendship into a state of irreparable destruction. There is nothing left for me. I may as well be dead."

McCoy shifted uncomfortably. How out of character! What the heck had happened?

"It can't be that bad, Spock."

The responding gaze made McCoy shiver. "Are you certain, doctor? The captain's behavior is something I would expect from you, perhaps, but never from him. He hates me."

"Hates?" McCoy scoffed. "Jim couldn't hate a Seguarian Worm Flea! He doesn't hate you, Spock. The very thought... Why, it's illogical, is what it is!"

Spock shook his head. "Perhaps at another stage, it would have been, but no. You didn't hear him, Bones. You can't be expected to understand."

McCoy reeled at the use of his nickname. He couldn't recall a time when Spock had called him Bones, ever. This was serious.

"What did the captain say to you, Spock?"

He almost didn't want to know.

"It is of no consequence, doctor." Spock suddenly seemed very weary, but whether from the drinks or something else, McCoy didn't know.

"Look, Spock, you seem upset. Why don't you just tell me? It might help."

Spock was beginning to appear quite agitated. "I said it doesn't matter, doctor, and it doesn't! But honestly, how would you expect me to feel? How would you feel? Upset? The word doesn't begin to describe it!"

"Spock!" McCoy roared, exasperated. He wasn't used to all this talk of emotion—not coming from Spock, at the very least. "What did Jim say?"

Spock shook his head resolutely. His lower lip started to bleed where he had been worrying at it. McCoy shook his head. "For goodness' sake, man, just tell me! What on Earth did he say to you?" He opened his mouth to continue the tirade, but was suddenly and uncharacteristically cut off.

"Half-breed!" Spock shouted, and suddenly the room was dead silent. Spock heaved in a heavy breath, feeling slightly dizzy. "He called me a half-breed. How could he do that? We were friends. How could he do this to me?"

McCoy felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. All the air was gone from his lungs. "Half-breed?" he muttered quietly. "He really said that? Half-breed?"

Spock could only nod.

"Oh gosh, Spock." McCoy ran a tired hand over his face. "Gosh, I'm so sorry. I just don't understand... Why did he say that? What happened?"

"I... took your advice and apologized to him. He didn't take it very well. He began shouting at me, accusing me of being jealous and wanting to... steal his happiness from him. It was all highly illogical. Then, when I reminded him that his behavior was unnecessary, given that we were friends, he..."

After a long pause, McCoy prompted encouragingly, "What did he do, Spock?"

"He informed me that we are no longer friends, and that the only reason he hadn't already gotten rid of me is because killing me would get him thrown out of Starfleet."

Spock said the words blandly, staring into his empty glass. He felt nothing. He was a Vulcan. He felt nothing.

So what was this pain gnawing deep into his chest?

McCoy, for his part, handled the news rather well. He sat back with a huff of air, his face gradually turning an alarming shade of burgundy.

"I can't believe he would actually say that to you," the doctor muttered. Spock looked up.

"Indeed. This behavior is most unlike the captain. I believe he may be under the influence of some sort of drug."

McCoy snorted. "Drug? Sure, it's possible. It doesn't excuse what he said, though! That was right below the belt! Even I wouldn't say something like that to you, Spock!"

"It hardly matters, doctor. I remain unaffected by his words. I am a Vulcan, and as such..."

He was cut off as McCoy leapt furiously from his seat.

"Unaffected? You may be Vulcan, my friend, but don't forget that you're half human, too. If you were as fine about all of this as you would lead me to believe, you wouldn't be in my office right now drinking five glasses of brandy! Unaffected, my foot!"

Spock clenched his jaw. "I am quite in control of my emotions at the moment, doctor. Whatever lapse that occurred previously was due merely to my surprise at the captain's outburst, and nothing more."

"Hmm, sure!" Bones shook his head. "You said it yourself, Spock: the captain and this ship are akin to the only things you have in the universe. If the captain won't accept you, what's left?"

"I trust you are still my friend, doctor," Spock intoned gravely.

Bones tilted his head. "I didn't reckon that I was before, but yeah, I suppose I am. I'm too stubborn to switch sides so easy, and you know it."

Suddenly, Spock had the inanely human urge to grin. He settled for a clipped, "Indeed. Your companionship is most appreciated, Bones," before he stood graciously and strode from the office, leaving a startled doctor in his wake.

 _I swear, the next time I run into the captain, it will not be a pleasant sight,_ McCoy thought, shaking his head. _Emotionless Vulcans, my foot! Based off of the Vulcan I know, they can get pretty darned emotional. What the heck was Jim thinking?_

 _More'n likely, he wasn't thinking a lick..._

* * *

 **Again, would love it if you reviewed! Was Spock too out of character? Did I get Bones's vernacular right, at least? It would be great to hear what you think!**


	8. Chapter 7

**And here's the second chapter for today. I don't own Star Trek or any of its characters. Do consider reviewing!**

* * *

He found Spock sitting at one of the tables in the Mess Hall.

It had been three days since the Vulcan had shown up in his office, and since then Bones had not seen even a glimpse of Spock or Kirk. Despite his attempts to "conveniently" run into the captain during his shift on the bridge, or in the hall outside his cabin, or in the rec room, McCoy hadn't managed to catch hold of the man anywhere, and thus began to grow more and more frustrated about the situation. Spock had been equally elusive, but Doctor McCoy had resolved to confront them both that day (not at the same time, of course; he wasn't suicidal), if it was the very last thing he ever did ( _which it might very well be,_ he considered).

As the doctor, bent on purpose, entered the Mess, he noted that the captain wasn't around. _All the better,_ he thought. _The less people around during this particular conversation, the better._ And given that there weren't very many people in the cafeteria at that moment, and that the captain especially wasn't present, McCoy figured it was as good a time as any to gauge the very private Vulcan's mental status.

"Hey, Spock," the doctor sidled up casually, sitting across from his friend. "How are you feeling?"

Spock looked up slowly from his small bowl of soup. It was primarily untouched.

"I am fine, Doctor McCoy."

The doctor spluttered somewhat, glancing around quickly before he leaned in closer. "Now that's a lie if I ever heard one!" Bones chastised, voice low. "How 'bout you start telling the truth for once, and then maybe we'll be able to work this thing out."

"I do not know what you wish me to say, doctor. I have already told you the truth. I cannot do anything more than that."

McCoy shook his head in annoyance. "No, see," he chuckled, "I know a little something about you Vulcans. I'm not stupid, you know! You all say you're fine, no emotions and all that malarkey, but I don't believe it for a second. Really, 'fine' is like some kind of code word for you guys, for when you feel totally awful, like you can't handle the situation, but you are unable to admit it or something. 'I'm fine' is not an assurance of your ability to cope; it's your cry for help!"

McCoy looked rather proud of himself, if slightly winded, after all of that. He had managed to control his voice until the very end, and now the few people present in the Mess had turned to glance anxiously at him before carrying on with their meals.

"Well, doctor," Spock huffed, "that was quite something. Now, if you are finished…"

He made to leave, but Bones called him on it. "What's the hurry, Spock? Your shift doesn't start for another hour, and besides, I wasn't quite finished."

"Then proceed. I do not wish to spend the rest of my day in this location, Doctor McCoy, a sentiment which I'm sure you will agree with."

"Hrrmph! Well, I just wanted to ask how you are really feeling, is all."

Spock nodded, getting to his feet slowly. He looked calm as ever, but his eyes pierced into McCoy with an intensity that made the doctor squirm. "'Feeling' being the operative word here, doctor? You, more than anyone, should be aware by now that Vulcans have no use for such trivial things as emotions."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, just humor me, alright? How are you really feeling?"

Spock nodded slowly, eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "As I said before, doctor," his voice rumbled, low and grave, "I am fine." And with the doctor's mouth hanging smartly open, Spock muttered a quick, "If that will be all, please excuse me," and exited the cafeteria, leaving a stunner doctor and an unfinished bowl of soup in his wake.

* * *

James Kirk felt tired, more tired than he would care to admit. Weariness seeped into his bones with a strength that may have alarmed him had he not been so exhausted...

Dragging his feet, Captain Kirk somehow made his way into the cafeteria, ordered some food, and sat down at a table in the very back, away from all the chatter. As he looked around to check for a certain Vulcan science officer, who he had been strictly avoiding since their argument the other day, he noted Doctor McCoy sitting alone at a table in the middle of the room, a bowl sitting across from him but with no apparent owner. Kirk had the strong urge to slink away (he had been avoiding the chief medical officer as well, as it happened), but he was too hungry and too tired to make the effort.

He had been eating in relative peace for about seven minutes when McCoy came over and sat across from him. _A new record,_ he thought sardonically.

He really didn't want to deal with the doctor at that moment, but nonetheless, he turned to McCoy and smiled. "Hey, Bones. How are things down in Sickbay?" Normalcy was key.

McCoy scowled slightly, huffing as he slouched further into his chair. "You know, Jim? Not so good."

"Hmm," Jim turned to focus his full attention on his friend. He felt far more awake all of a sudden, and with that came the understanding that he was going to have to pretend ignorance, or risk the greater wrath of a certain Leonard "Bones" McCoy than he already knew was coming. "What happened?"

"Well, it's nothing so bad that you have to get all worked up. I wouldn't want _that_. I probably shouldn't have said anything. After all, God forbid that anyone should say or do anything to upset you, Jimmy boy."

Kirk shifted. "What do you mean? What's wrong? I don't understand."

McCoy stared at Jim for several moments. "You really don't know, do you?" He sighed, seeming suddenly very agitated. "Of course you don't," he huffed, more to himself than anything else, "the great James Kirk can't be bothered to think that the things he says might hurt other people."

At Kirk's confused look he elaborated. "One of the crewmembers came in to see me a few days ago." He paused, considering. "He seemed very... upset. He wound up chugging five shots of Saurian Brandy, which normally may not have concerned me, except that this particular crewmember has sworn off alcohol."

McCoy looked pointedly at Kirk, who gasped, trying to feign surprise. In truth, he was a little startled by the last little detail (Spock drinking? Never!), but everything else he had mostly surmised in the days since it happened. "Spock," he muttered quietly.

McCoy nodded. "Yes, Spock," he confirmed, peering closely at Jim as if he could see right through him. "He said some things that concerned me, Jim. Disturbed me, perhaps."

At that moment, Jim wanted to be anywhere in the universe but where he was.

"What did he say?"

It came out harsh and cynical. McCoy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Well, Jim, I'm not sure it matters so much what he said as the fact that he said anything at all... Are you feeling alright?"

He could feel his face flush, his blood boiling under the heat of McCoy's gaze. "Of course I'm alright! What the heck did he say to make you think otherwise?"

McCoy backed off. "It doesn't _matter,_ Captain. I think you should come with me to Sickbay, just so I can..."

"I don't need to be checked out! I'm fine!" Kirk flung his food tray to the side and leaped up. By then, the whole cafeteria was staring at them open-mouthed, but he didn't care. "I am the captain of this ship, and I _order_ you to tell me what my First Officer said!"

"Your 'First Officer'?" McCoy inquired calmly. He sighed. "Well, therein lay the problem. Whatever happened to 'Spock?' You know, your _friend?_ "

Jim leaned in close to the doctor, his teeth bared. He lowered his voice, more mindful of the crew surrounding him, now that he had gotten a handle on his anger. "That's where you are wrong, Doctor McCoy," he growled. "The Commander is _not_ my friend. I don't care what you may have _thought,_ but it was _wrong._ Now, stop spreading these vicious rumors on my ship, or I will have you _and_ Spock locked up for insubordination and mutiny. Do I make myself clear?"

McCoy leaned back, a low whistle escaping from his lips. "Sure, Jim, sure," he replied easily. Kirk nodded, and the good doctor stood and left, just as composed as he had been when he strode up to the table.

Gradually, the crew turned form their brooding captain, and the Mess filled with sound once more. The captain was abandoned to his own morose thoughts.

With one lingering more readily than the rest.

 _How had things gotten so bad so fast?_


End file.
